


It's a Duty, Not a Party.

by stinkyfic



Category: The Terror (TV 2018), The Terror - Dan Simmons
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bratting, Dirty Talk, Do they love each other? PERHAPS but no one is gonna address THAT, Established Relationship, Groping, It's kiiinda an established relationship but it's mostly DWB (doctors with benefits), M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, Praise Kink, Public Hand Jobs, Public Humiliation, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, Verbal Humiliation, brat/dom relationship, far too Victorian for that kind of discussion, hodgson is mentioned for a bit, maybe uniform kink if you squint, mcdonald is a brat, mcdonald is using stanley's dislike for verbal pet names as an excuse to rile him up, so is goodsir but we never see him, sorta..., stanley is FURIOUS for most of the fic, this fic is actually quite fluffy and i don't know how that happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:08:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29267748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stinkyfic/pseuds/stinkyfic
Summary: Without a word he walked past Alexander and out into the corridor, only just managing to squeeze past the other man without making any contact with him. Alexander spun to catch him as he made to walk away, softly gripping him by the elbow, nowhere near powerful enough to actually stop the man. Stephen stopped dead in his tracks anyway, staring down at Alexander's hand with a faltering frown.“Before we go…” Alexander's voice was as low as a whisper but without the volume, accent clipping the ‘o’. Stephen continued to look down, his jaw working but other than that his face was perfectly still, downcast. “How do I look?” he gently let go of Stephen and Stephen cast his gaze up then, seeming to baulk at the question.....Dr McDonald and Dr Stanley are fulfilling their duty by attending a celebratory dinner party being held in Erebus' great cabin. Dr McDonald is restless and bored, and he knows just the right way to get a rise out of Dr Stanley.
Relationships: Alexander McDonald/Stephen S. Stanley
Comments: 12
Kudos: 15
Collections: The Terror Rarepair Week 2021





	It's a Duty, Not a Party.

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my contributions to The Terror Rare Pair Week 2021 which has been organised by attheborder and ClockworkCourier!  
> This entry is filling the Tuesday prompt of 'DUTY OWING'.  
> Enjoy!

“It’s a duty, not a _party._ ” Dr Stephen Stanley was pacing around his room as Dr Alexander McDonald leant on the open doorway, watching the tall man as he moved from mirror to bedside in the limited space, fussing with his epaulets.

“It’s not going to be _either_ if you never turn up, Doctor.” Alexander’s soft brogue churned in his vowels more than usual. The brisk row with the other men over from Terror had chilled him so thoroughly that he felt as if his jaw was still defrosting.

He watched Stephen move back to the mirror hanging above his desk, stooping to look into it, cutting a handsome figure in his dress uniform. He smoothed a hand down his sternly lined cheek, checking his shave was smooth. A pull at a collar here, a flattening of an eyebrow there. The man had never fussed so much in his life and Alexander was taken aback by it.

“You’re never nervous, are you Stephen?” he breathed incredulously.

The officers were getting together for a dinner party of sorts tonight to celebrate passing through Baffin Bay, they would all be gathering on Erebus in the great cabin for a full course meal and possibly much storytelling. Dr Stanley and Dr McDonald had also been invited, which was standard for Stephen and not so much for Alexander. Dr Peddie had called a rain check at the last minute and so Alexander was called forth to represent Terror’s medical officers.

“Don’t be absurd.” Stephen didn’t look at him, straightening up from the mirror. He turned to him then, observing the assistant surgeon where he was leaning. “And you can’t call me that in _there_ , are we clear?” his face was cold, but the light reflected in his eyes with a hint of warmth.

Alexander simply offered him a smile, his eyes shining. Stephen looked away from him, clearing his throat.

“Why are you hanging around here, McDonald? You do realise I’m more than capable of finding my own way around the ship that I _work_ on, aren’t you?” the Doctor clipped, straightening his back, still looking at the wall.

“Yes, well.” Alexander heaved himself from the door, uncrossing his arms, his own dress uniform sat snugly around him. “In case you haven’t realised, _I_ don’t work on this ship.”

“Yes, what a blessing.” Stephen muttered, his eyes darting back to fix on Alexander's, steel blue. Alexander beamed brightly and Stephen never took his eyes from his face, although he remained expressionless.

“Well, how lucky of you to be able to escort me to the great cabin, then?”

“You know where the great cabin is.” His voice was hard.

“I fear I may have forgotten.” Alexander smoothed his frock coat out over his chest as he spoke, slow and deliberate, a smile playing more in his eyes than on his lips. Stephen looked away with a sigh, his neck grew red under his collar, barely visible.

Without a word he walked past Alexander and out into the corridor, only just managing to squeeze past the other man without making any contact with him. Alexander spun to catch him as he made to walk away, softly gripping him by the elbow, nowhere near powerful enough to actually stop the man. Stephen stopped dead in his tracks anyway, staring down at Alexander's hand with a faltering frown.

“Before we go…” Alexander's voice was as low as a whisper but without the volume, accent clipping the ‘o’. Stephen continued to look down, his jaw working but other than that his face was perfectly still, downcast. “How do I look?” he gently let go of Stephen and Stephen cast his gaze up then, seeming to baulk at the question.

Something warred behind his eyes, but then it was smoothed over. He levelled his gaze, tipping his head up slightly so as to observe Alexander with the ghost of authority. Stephen was a tall man, but so was Alexander, there was only about two inches between them and so he was immune to Stephen’s haughty length and looming presence.

“Smart.” Was all he said, but a couple of creases appeared at the corners of his eyes and that was all that Alexander needed. He smiled at him, following in his wake as he turned away up the corridor.

…

They had finished all the courses. The dinner had gone on for well over two hours so far and there were still stories being told. Alexander was starting to realise why Stephen called these events a _duty owing_ rather than a party.

Sat around the table were the figures of some of the officers, chiefly Sir John and his Commanders, sat flanking him like guard dogs.

‘ _Two very different breeds of dog’_ Alexander thought to himself, watching as Commander Crozier sat in absolute misery as Commander Fitzjames continued to tell his rather lengthy war story.

Alexander was seated next to Stephen at the end of the table, closest to the wall and furthest away from the commanding officers. So much for status. Still, the simple thrill of sitting next to Stephen was good enough for Alexander to enjoy himself.

Alexander and Stephen had studied briefly together when they were training to be Surgeons, that is before Alexander moved to Edinburgh for the facilities there- Stephen staying in London. Alexander only had one year on Stephen as far as age was concerned, but people often assumed Stephen was older back then- still did really. It was no doubt his sternness, even as a young man.

Although, Alexander mused, turning his head to face the Doctor where he was sat stiffy next to him- staring in the vague direction of Fitzjames without focus- Stephen had been more relaxed as a younger man, more malleable. He supposed the same could be said for all of them. Then again, there was that war. Alexander could only imagine those kinds of environments would steadily chip at a man’s shield until he had no choice but to build a fort to protect himself.

Is that what this man was? A fortress?

Alexander let his eyes pass over the man’s face, confident that all the attention was on Fitzjames and his terribly heroic deeds. The years showed in the strong lines that marked each jowl, his frightfully sharp jaw and nose cast a brilliant Roman profile, his cold eyes surprisingly feline and full of fair lashes, his mouth thin and masterfully neutral, eyebrows sat fair and unmoving on a generous forehead. A man not unlike a marble bust. And yet, Alexander had seen the corners of that very same mouth turn up, seen creases under his eyes and sweat on his brow, heard his laugh, his voice break. No, he wasn’t a fortress, he was merely a man.

It had been easy for them to be gravitated to each other during their studies, they were both as equally passionate about their profession. Plus, stupidly, they were easily two of the tallest young men in the lecture hall, and they bonded over this quickly. They had shared intimate moments, as all men of their age- or arguably their curiosities- had, but they were gone as easily as they had appeared and largely went unaddressed. Alexander remembered those nights as a young man, lying in bed, unable to stop himself from thinking about the other- he was electric back then. Still was. When Alexander had left to return to Scotland, he was sure that would be the last time they would ever see each other, but no tearful goodbye was said.

That was until they had both been drafted to the Franklin expedition some good decades later. Alexander couldn’t help but smile privately to himself as he remembered the way Stephen had desperately tried to avoid him in the first few weeks, Alexander could tell then that he had changed as a man over the years.

His game of faux ignorance hadn’t kept them apart for very long though, and now here they were again, just like old times.

The assistant’s face flushed as he remembered their ‘reunion’, and- by god- was it a _union_ of sorts.

It probably wasn’t best to think about such things here.

Alexander faced away from Stephen then, turning his attention back to the conversation around the table. He shuffled his seat closer under the table, using it as a disguise in order to sidle closer to Stephen’s seat, a childish gesture of affection. Stephen remained unmoved, still on another plane of existence it seemed. His elbows were leant on the table in front of him, his neat and skilled hands were interlocked together, each long finger slotting in next to its twin. He looked over the backs of his hands towards the higher-ranking officers, blinking slowly- if at all.

He was bored.

Something swelled in Alexander's chest then as he recognised the expression and was suddenly transported right back to being sat next to the man during painfully slow anatomist lessons. He looked almost like a boy then, a boy with the shadow of war on his brow. It was bittersweet and horrible all at once.

Alexander looked down at his own hands, struggling to place them in a comfortable position on the table. He settled for putting them into his lap, fiddling with his napkin ring.

He inched his knee close to Stephen’s under the table, pushing against the other man’s gently but purposefully, feeling the warmth of the simple contact envelop him. Stephen remained unmoved, but he didn’t pull away.

His eyes came into focus then, jostled from whatever thought he had been visualising on the back wall, he didn’t stir, only let a steady breath out through his nose, blinking once more in that steady, considerate fashion.

After a moment, the smallest push came back from Stephen’s knee, reciprocating Alexander's quiet movements with even more care- barely there at all. Alexander pushed back again in the same movement, almost encouragingly.

It was a simple thing, but it made Alexander's heart soar. He wanted suddenly to embrace the man, to pull him so close into himself that he disappeared. He couldn’t do that though, not now. Instead, he emboldened himself, shuffling further under the table until his middle was pressed against it, closer to Stephen once more, and placed a hand on his knee.

His heart was beating in his throat as he did it. Stephen made no reaction whatsoever, just continued to stare towards the source of the conversation. Fitzjames had now ceased with his story and was allowing Sir John to speak, of whom was very merry indeed and was speaking in guffawed tones of some great event he had no doubt attended in the past.

There was a moment where Fitzjames’ eyes flickered over to the two of them sitting at the end of the table, flanked distantly- thank god- by the remaining handful of officers who weren’t on duty. Alexander ran cold with the thought that they must have looked very close together then, but Fitzjames seemed to only linger on them for a moment, curiously he studied Stephen’s face more than Alexander's. Stephen was now looking into the empty place on the table where his dinner plate had been, eyebrows raised in trained nonchalance, mouth a stern hard line.

Within seconds the Commander’s attention was drawn back into the conversation and Alexander let it slide. Perhaps the Commander had only just realised that the two of them had not said much all night and was simply checking if they were okay.

Stephen’s gaze returned back to the conversation as soon as he felt Fitzjames’ eyes off him, a curious crease in the middle of his brow. Alexander's hand seemed to be burning where it still sat firmly on the Doctor’s knee.

Alexander listened to the conversation for a while, joining in here and there with a well-timed laugh or remark, his hand caressed lightly where it sat, moving only the most miniscule of amounts, drawing small circles with his palm against the fabric, feeling the firmness of the joint. Stephen stayed incredibly quiet, still leant over on his elbows as if in great interest, his face level and cool.

Stephen moved back in his chair to stretch his shoulders, and as he did this Alexander took the opportunity to slide his hand up into the searing hotness of his inner thigh. Stephen froze for the tiniest of moments, continuing with his subtle loosening of muscles with a little less vigour than before.

When he had settled again, his forearms crossed on the table in front of him, he turned his face to give Alexander a scathing look. His eyes were noticeably wide with anger, his brow pinched in the middle, his mouth all but disappeared as his lips drew tightly closed over his teeth.

Alexander remained looking away from him, towards the conversation, a smile playing on his face that could have easily been played off as entertainment from the speaker. He could see Stephen continue to look at him from his peripheral, he could practically feel the heat of his anger rolling off of him.

Alexander made no attempt to acknowledge him, instead he turned his wrist slightly, groping at the sensitive flesh of the inner upper thigh, feeling the muscles in Stephen’s legs tense up as he did it.

Stephen turned his head a little too quickly back to the direction of the conversation, his brow twitching as he steeped in his fury. Alexander could practically hear his thought process, reasoning that if he made a big deal of reaching below the table now to pull his hand away then it would only draw more attention to the matter. His hands clenched white over where they laid in the crook of each elbow, his back straight.

The experience was magnetic, a heady feeling of control crept its way up Alexander's spine, tingling to his ears. With one hand on his thigh, he now held all the power of what could happen next. He could sense that Stephen knew this, and it played in his jaw as the muscles flickered there just under the skin. Alexander wished he could lean over and kiss them, push the man further into his rage, laugh softly into his ear as he tried to keep his precious composure.

He knew what his voice did to Stephen sometimes, knew how, despite the man’s best efforts, it sent an invasive shiver up his spine.

Alexander curbed these thoughts, still entertaining himself in the pleasantries of the conversation. He couldn’t curb the heat that had started pooling in his groin though, but he didn’t entirely want to.

He inched his hand up, closer to the join in Stephen’s thighs, the heat radiating from the core of the Doctor was erotic in and of itself and Alexander smiled wider, facing forwards, never breaking away from the general bustle up the far end of the table.

Stephen took a steady breath and then, slowly and deliberately, closed his legs until they created a vice like grip around Alexander's hand. A small act of defiance. It was funny to have their usual power dynamic so starkly shifted, and Alexander felt the challenge flare up in his chest as his hand was enveloped by molten warmth.

He risked a glance at Stephen then, who was still sitting perfectly upright and authoritative, but Alexander could see the ghost of a dirty smile playing in the very corner of his mouth, imperceptible to anyone else but him. It made his heart race. Such a glimpse into the man behind the professional mask, displayed especially for Alexander and no one else.

There was stillness between the two of them then- not that Stephen hadn’t been perfectly unmoving beforehand. The conversation continued around them, the pleasant buzz of it drowning out Alexander's accelerated breathing. Everybody seemed to be solely focused on the other side of the room.

Alexander moved his hand experimentally, unable to get any traction. He swiftly (swiftly as he could without moving his arm too much) drew his crushed hand out from between the strong thighs that held it with some difficulty. Once more, Stephen remained unmoved, but his eyes trained themselves on a small dot of spilled wine that stained the white tablecloth in front of him, as if deep in thought. Alexander knew that he wasn’t.

Stephen’s knees remained firmly together, obviously making a point of his (rightful) distrust in Alexander. As if to illustrate this, Alexander's hand carefully skirted over the top of his thigh again, pushing his fingertips and blunt nails delicately into the material there and making a nasty and rather unfair display of dragging them sensuously up Stephen’s thigh until they reached the hinge of his hip.

Stephen’s legs seized; his hips made the smallest movement as if ticklish. He wasn’t, Alexander knew that for a fact, but the sensation had shot up the Doctor’s spine in such a way that made even him, even this block of ice, this scary looming figure that he had heard many of the men speak in fear about, this man who’s face rarely changed from carefully practiced disinterest, squirm.

The anger was palpable then, and Alexander was sure that if they had been alone he would already have been restrained flat on his back. The thought made a giddy jolt run through him, his groin continuing to flood with heat and pressure.

Another glance at Stephen’s face and he could see that the man was positively _livid_. All the colour had drained from his face save for two splotches on the high bones of his cheeks, his eyes fixed with a performative calmness, now slate grey. His mouth was tight but neutral, his brow creased in the middle. He was staring down at the spot of wine as if it had done him a personal wrongdoing.

“Good god, man!” it was Commander Fitzjames' voice, floating across the table as if out of a dream. Alexander forced himself to stay calm and make no movement, but his stomach plummeted at an alarming speed. He levelled his gaze at Fitzjames with a curious interest. “I feel as if our talk about battle injuries has really upset Dr Stanley.” He announced with a laugh, “You look as if you could do us all in, old boy.”

Alexander laughed with the crew, turning to face Stephen as if he were an outsider to the whole thing, as if it wasn’t his hand pushing circles into the join of the man’s thigh to his hip, feeling the rough wool of his smart trousers flare up with heat.

Stephen’s posture straightened with well-disguised haste, he tore his gaze away from the wine, working his face into ambiguity once more with a thin, cold smile.

“No, not at all, Commander.” As he addressed Fitzjames his posture relaxed, his legs parting, and some awful part of Alexander formed itself to the surface. Without changing anything about his position, looking boldly into the peripheral of Stephen as if he were just another innocent dinner guest, Alexander moved his hand to cup firmly at the hot junction between the Doctor’s thighs, pushing down to the left, knowing which side Stephen preferred to dress.

And god, he was hard, so gorgeously hard. Alexander knew he would be, could tell by the way the heat had stayed on his cheeks, by the way he had tightened his legs closed.

Stephen clamped his mouth shut so hard his teeth clicked, stifling any words that he may have been planning to say. His eyelashes fluttered in the most beautiful, infinitesimal way as he swallowed heavily, working to keep his face still. Alexander struggled to suppress a sigh of satisfaction as he watched him, wanting to lean into his neck and drink up the heat of him as it rose higher.

“Everything okay, Doctor?” It was Crozier who spoke this time, the flat vowels of his accent easy to cut through the others. Alexander turned his head to face the Commander with a look of mock concern for his fellow Doctor, a glow about his cheeks that suggested otherwise.

Crozier was looking at Stephen as if he were a difficult piece of literature, but there was something alarming in his eyes that almost looked like understanding.

“Yes, of course, Sir.” Stephen’s voice was remarkably level, only just slightly tight at the edges. Another thin smile was offered in Crozier’s direction this time, his eyes hardening.

“You look at if you’re sweating, are you sure the food is agreeing with you, Doctor?” Crozier’s gaze fell to Alexander then and he felt pinned, not seeing any overt reason why the Commander should be looking at him at all. He offered him an exasperated look, similar to one he may have given his Captain had they been in a comparable position on Terror. He tried his hardest to be convincing.

“Come now, Francis, I’m sure the man is fine!” Sir John interrupted, clasping the second Commander’s shoulder firmly with an uncoordinated hand. Crozier’s gaze snapped to his Captain then and Alexander let out a breath. “Don’t embarrass the man!” he was saying.

Stephen was looking between the three men steadily with an incredibly sharp eye, sweat had begun to form at his fine hairline.

“If the man wants to brood, I say that’s his right!” Fitzjames cut in, leaning back in his chair with a posture that exuded decadence pickled in gin. He looked at Stephen again and Stephen held his gaze. Alexander felt Stephen’s cock move where it was firmly held within his warm palm. The confrontation had sent a jolt of arousal through the Doctor and Alexander found himself hardly surprised, but still incredibly dizzied by the fact of it anyway.

Alexander couldn’t help but respond with a gentle push of his own, watching in shielded fascination as Stephen gritted his teeth, narrowing his eyes, but never once taking them off of Fitzjames.

The conversation had picked up again, this time Lieutenant Hodgson had joined in on some ruckus with Sir John, the man looked half thrilled to be talking so earnestly with the Captain. Fitzjames quickly joined in with the conversation, turning his posture away from confronting the two of them.

Alexander risked a glance into Stephen’s face and his heart almost jumped out of his throat when he found that the Doctor had beaten him to it. _Oh dear_. The colour had drained from his features save for the redness in his cheeks, his eyes like cold hard stones, his mouth struggling to stop from snarling, twitching around his teeth. Alexander stared at him, his eyes twinkling, as if he were looking into the face of a puppy and not a man who looked about a whisker away from turning him inside out with his bare hands.

Oh, how he wished he could fall into him then, scrape his dull nails over the back of his neck, beg him for punishment. Instead, he pushed the heel of his hand into his lap, massaging the hardness that was there, trapped against the inseam of that lovely debonair uniform.

Stephen’s eyes only got colder, he took a sharp breath in through his nose at the action, but he didn’t turn away, continuing to pierce Alexander with his divine wrath.

Alexander let a small smile worm into his features, slightly breathless caught under such potent gaze. He turned his face away with a small flourish, purposeful in his avoidance of the confrontation, and reached with his free hand across the table to his wine glass.

He drew the glass towards his lips, letting his smile grow wider as he felt Stephen continue to stare knives into him. With some difficulty, Stephen’s face turned away from him, his own grip unfolding itself from his elbows and coming to find his own wine glass.

They drank at the same time.

Alexander let his hand move, feeling out the length of Stephen against his thigh, giving a firm stroke of his thumb over the trapped head of his cockstand. Nothing too precise, just a simple frisson of pressure.

Stephen’s thighs closed tight again, he put his wine glass down with perhaps a little too much force, the dark liquid threatened to spill over the edge. Such a movement caught the attention of the room, who now looked at Stephen with growing interest and concern.

“Have you strong opinions on the works of Dickens, Doctor?” Fitzjames laughed, but he looked a little uneasy.

Stephen gathered himself gracefully, his hand still on his glass. He drew it away slowly with another smile that didn’t meet his eyes and actually only resulted in him looking rather ill.

“Forgive me.” He spoke, his gaze falling to that dot of wine again for a second. Then he moved, pushing his chair away from the table, allowing Alexander's hand to fall from his lap.

Alexander made no action to move his arm from where it now hovered, not wanting to draw attention. The table watched Stephen as he moved to button his coat around himself with fierce precision.

“The night got the better of you, Stanley?” Sir John leant back in his chair, observing him with a look of kindness. Stephen let his gaze flick up to his Captain, but his eyes dared against graciousness.

“I feel as if my duties are needed back in the medical bay with Mr Goodsir.” He spoke stiffly, not rising from his chair just yet. He tilted his chin into his chest as he spoke, focusing on the topmost buttons of his overcoat.

Crozier was folding and unfolding a napkin carefully in front of him, looking across at Alexander. Alexander caught his gaze and offered him a small smile, taking another sip from his wine so as not to seem too rigid. His heart was racing, sweat prickling at the back of his neck.

“Well, of course, my dear.” Sir John always called the men ‘dear’ when he was under the influence of spirit, it was one of his more endearingly fatherly qualities. Stephen physically tensed and Alexander could have laughed then, but he didn’t.

Fitzjames attempted to share a look with Crozier, but it was adamantly ignored, which again was rather funny to Alexander, who was fast finishing his wine.

All Stephen did was ask to leave and already the dinner party was falling apart before his very eyes. What fun.

Alexander cast his gaze up to Stephen as he stood with an expression he hoped was one of innocent interest- the sort of professional interest everyone else around the table was displaying. He couldn’t help his eyes snapping down to the Doctor’s crotch for a split second, relieved to find any sign of ‘issue’ safely covered by his coat.

Crozier must have noticed his line of sight, no matter how miniscule, because when he turned his attention back to him, he had his gaze diverted away, the smallest hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he continued to address his napkin.

 _‘Interesting.’_ Alexander thought, despite a flush of cold shame rushing over his back. He slowly bought his hovered hand back into his own lap.

“Oh, and…” Sir John piped up before Stephen could leave. Stephen turned very slowly to address him, his face the picture of subordinate interest. It made Alexander's head swim whenever he got to observe Stephen having to act so obediently. It didn’t happen very often. “Do get your assistant, Mr Goodsir, to come show me his little findings at some point, will you?” Sir John turned to Fitzjames then, “His work into the nature here is simply fascinating!”

Fitzjames agreed with a low noise and Sir John squeezed his upper arm before turning back to Stephen, who was still standing very dutifully by the door, even though Alexander knew he wanted nothing more than to flee.

“Yes, of course, Sir.” He gave a curt nod, then his eyes locked with Alexander's for a very tense but ultimately imperceivable moment before he turned and left the room completely.

…

By the time Alexander had been able to make his excuses and leave the party, he had worked his way through another glass of wine. He promised to be back with the others within the hour so as not to miss the boat back to Terror, but the party didn’t show any signs of stopping until the early morning- much to Commander Crozier’s disdain- so Alexander had claimed that he wanted to take a look around Erebus’ medical bay, see how they ran things over here.

Stephen’s cabin was situated next to the Captain’s, but in order to get to it one had to pass through the officer’s mess and skirt around the seaman’s berth until they reached the narrow faux corridors that were lined with the private rooms of men of importance on the ship.

When Alexander reached it, the door was already slid open and Stephen could be seen sitting on the edge of his bed, still in his dress uniform, his elbows leaning on his knees and an expression of severeness turned towards the floor.

He was roused by the sound of Alexander sliding the door shut behind him. His head shot up and fixed Alexander with the same furious stare he had given him earlier in the evening.

“What were you _thinking_?” his voice was thin in a ferocious whisper, Stephen’s tried and tested method to stop himself from shouting. Alexander felt his pulse pick up as he moved further into the room.

It wasn’t a huge room, but it was about as big as the Captain’s quarters, save for a few inches on each side. Alexander's movements brought him within reaching distance of the other man, but he stayed perfectly still where he was seated.

Alexander couldn’t help it, he started laughing- the wine had very much gone to his head. It was a mischievous little laugh, but it was growing slowly more earnest as Alexander thought back to the events that had transpired around the dinner table.

Stephen’s face slackened as he straightened up, looking up into the face of the assistant surgeon with poised disbelief.

“Oh, my goodness…” Alexander was saying, his accent hard, “Did you _see_ the look that Commander Fitzjames had tried to share with Commander Crozier?” He moved forward, steadying himself on the Doctor’s shoulder as he remembered the sheer hilarious rejection that had happened right before his eyes. Stephen’s face was at once rather sour.

“No, I _didn’t_ !” angrily whispered again, “My attention was on not making a _fool_ of myself!” Alexander thought at once that he had never seen the Doctor so animated with anger before, it pleased him, affirmed the knowledge that Stephen’s guard always came down when they were alone together.

“Oh my, now.” Alexander's laughter softened, he reached his hand from the Doctor’s shoulder and cupped his jaw, running his thumb over the hard line on his cheek, feeling that his face was delightfully hot under his touch. Stephen’s anger remained pinched in his eyebrows, his eyes burning up into Alexander's. “Settle yourself…what was it?” he pretended to think, “‘ _My dear’_?”

Stephen made a noise of devastation in his throat, his anger enfolding his face further. He made to move his face away from Alexander's touch, but the assistant caught the other side of his jaw before he could move, holding him there with both hands.

Oh, his anger was _delicious_!

His eyes were practically ablaze with it, but he made no move to separate himself from Alexander. His mouth was a solid line and Alexander leaned down then, breathing the scent of wine over his hard face, planting a slow kiss on his closed lips. Stephen allowed him, but his face was immobilised with his temper.

Alexander pulled away only far enough to look into the other man’s face, watching Stephen’s eyes follow him like two marbles pushed into the surface of a rock. Like a predator counting the days of its prey.

As Alexander cast his gaze down the Doctor’s body where he sat, he could see that he was still hard. His gaze returned to Stephen’s with an ill-hidden elation.

“Were you just waiting for that to vanish?” his voice was teasing and low. Stephen’s breath ghosted over his face.

“Yes.” His voice was tight, clipped out through gritted teeth, but it wavered just enough at the edges for only someone like Alexander to pick up on.

He breathed a laugh, letting his hands stroke across Stephen’s jaw, his fingers inching into the fine hair behind his ears, his thumbs caressing along his high cheekbones.

“You do realise that makes you look rather foolish?” he watched Stephen’s eyelashes flutter as he gently moved his fingers to the back of his neck, his palm resting in the junction of his jaw.

A hard click sounded in Stephen’s throat as he swallowed, his eyes narrowing slightly before he spoke again, brow still very much incandescent.

“…Yes.”

The poorly hidden defeat in his voice made Alexander laugh again and he felt Stephen’s jaw clench under his hold. He moved one of his hands from the Doctor’s neck, tracing it down his shoulder and arm to grab at one of his wrists. He guided the Doctor’s hand to his own groin, pushing his hand up into his own erection that had fast been filling out again since entering the cabin, allowing a sigh to leave his throat at the pressure.

Stephen remained unmoved, but his lips parted with a small breath, his eyes darting briefly down to where his hand was now squeezing in earnest, before settling back on Alexander's face, watching his reaction carefully.

“I feel as if our symptoms are shared, Doctor.” Alexander jested through a shaking breath, bringing both his hands back to the other man’s face, pulling his head up so he could meet their mouths.

Alexander guessed that the Doctor would have tasted of wine, had he not also been drinking the same thing. He brought a hand to the back of Stephen’s neck, pushing his fingers under the high collar, suddenly frustrated at how modest the uniforms were, only able to get a mere taster of the hot flesh under there.

Stephen reciprocated the kiss this time, tilting his head back with a low purr as Alexander plundered him, heavy and desperate, having wanted to do this the entire time he was sat next to the man all evening. He was suddenly very frantic with it, as if he were afraid that Stephen would be taken from him in this moment, and they would have to go back to those ridged etiquettes of scarce eye contact and hidden brushes of skin that they subscribed to in polite society.

Although, Alexander couldn’t lie, the restrictions of it all made these moments twice as sweet, made Alexander's head light and dizzy with just the mere thought of them when he was alone.

Alexander forced himself to steady, not content yet to let go of this beautiful blossoming anger as it unfolded beneath him. His blood thrummed in his ears as he pulled away, gasping as Stephen’s hand groped him through his clothes, medical and precise and gorgeous.

Stephen was looking up at him, his face still held by Alexander, his brow had softened, and his eyes were dark in the limited light of the room. There was still a glint in them, as hard as a blade, threatening something, promising something.

He made no move to close the dwindling gap between them, but Alexander could tell he wanted to, forever so restrained in his severeness. He smiled softly down at him, his eyes glowing with the light, and instead moved his hand to the crook of his jaw so as to plant a kiss to his cheek, that space where he knew the muscles twitched when he ground his teeth.

Stephen, an air of impatience obvious as he let a quick breath whistle from his nose, groped Alexander's prick again, rubbing his warm hand over the length of him, mimicking the movements the assistant had subjected him to under the dinner table.

Alexander gasped, the whisper of a laugh escaping his throat as he dragged his nose along the Doctor’s skin, drawing his open mouth close to his ear, puffing hot breath.

“Now, now…” Alexander’s voice was low and saturated in his brogue, he moved his pelvis backwards, away from Stephen’s grip. The Doctor let his hand fall with some resignation, a dangerous noise low in his throat. It was the closest this man got to being needy, and Alexander drank it in.

With a languid chuckle, he moved his body so that he was now sat in the lap of his rather reserved Doctor, trapping the other man’s hands against his own thighs as he shifted, planting himself purposefully onto his trapped length, knees fixed on the bed behind him, his own erection pushing flush against Stephen’s hard stomach.

He felt at the same time liquid and solid as he looked down at the man who was now so very close to him, feeling his breath against his neck. Stephen made very little movement, letting Alexander have his way with only the smallest hint of complaint in the way his shoulders shifted, testing to see whether he could move his hands out from under the weight of the Scot. He couldn’t.

“Well, now, this is comfortable.” Alexander’s voice was honeyed, obviously a tease, he let his hands wander over the broad expanse of Stephen’s chest as the Doctor glared up at him, visibly frustrated by his restrictions but daring not to move. In that moment he looked splendidly like a prized housecat who had long since grown irritated by its owner but refused to attack through sheer willpower alone.

 _‘Beautiful.’_ Alexander thought, raising his hands to the man’s face again. He seemed unable to stop himself from touching that sublime expression, running his hands over his jaw, behind his ears and up through his hairline, undoing his pomade. Stephen continued to level at him, eyes never leaving Alexander's, his expression exquisitely patient but balancing on annoyance.

Alexander leaned down again, capturing that hard mouth in a kiss, softening it. He let his body rock gently against the figure of the other man, bringing his hands down to fight with the suppressive high collar of the Doctor’s uniform, unable to fight the urge to push his fingers against Stephen’s jugular, feeling the pulse thumping rapid and hot. He deepened the kiss at this, smiling through it, letting a laugh escape against his teeth, feeling Stephen’s cock twitch impatiently against the back of his thigh.

As he freed the buttons of Stephen’s coat, he worked instantly on the necktie and dress shirt, exposing the man’s neck and chest with appreciative strokes of his hands against the flesh, further parting the materials.

Alexander broke from the kiss, leaning back away from Stephen to better survey the skin on show to him now. Stephen remained still, his face was flushed and eyelids slightly heavy, but his breathing was even. A strand of fair hair had been unglued and now fell, undignified, in front of his forehead.

Alexander ran his hands over the hot expanse of Stephen’s chest, flushed starkly against his pale complexion and peppered with sandy freckles, partially concealed with hair the colour of dark honey, varying in thickness the further down the flat planes of his pectoral muscles it travelled.

The assistant surgeon hummed appreciatively, stroking, dragging his nails over the skin, watching as white lines chased in his absence through the glowing skin. Stephen took a deep breath in through his nose, his gaze never leaving Alexander's face, not a word being said. The assistant bought his fingers up to run smoothly over the hard bones of his collar and clavicle, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to the very centre of them.

He placed another kiss higher on the other man’s Adam’s apple as it bobbed in his throat, unable to ignore the way Stephen’s head tipped back the smallest amount and how his breath ghosted hot over the top of his head. He brought his mouth to the join of his neck and jaw, opening his lips against the skin there but never making a move to bring any pleasure, simply letting Stephen’s pulse hammer under his breathing. He smiled again, knowing Stephen could feel it against his skin.

Cruelly, he pulled away, looking down into Stephen’s face again which was now positively glowing with supreme frustrated anger. Alexander felt giddy, felt his own erection push against the inseam of his trousers (where it was no longer pressed against the Doctor’s stomach, having leaned away from him). He ran his hands over his chest again, excited by the fact that Stephen couldn’t move his hands to stop him, even though he knew he never would have wanted to. He steadied his growing delight, looking Stephen in the eyes as he spoke:

“You’re beautiful.” He said and watched as Stephen’s face drained. Alexander bit his lip as the glower settled deeper into the other man’s features, his chest puffing out with tension.

“…don’t.” it was a warning, and it went straight to the head of Alexander's cock.

“Don’t what?” he asked, the picture of innocence, pushing his hands over the backs of bare shoulders, sliding under the material that was still clothed at Stephen’s back, feeling the sweat on his skin.

“This.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” he dragged his nails sensuously up the man’s back, bringing his hands to the sides of his neck, holding his jaw with his thumbs so that he was looking up at Alexander as he got closer. “' _My Dear’_.”

Stephen’s mouth twitched in disdain and Alexander leaned down briefly to kiss the corner of it, not lingering long enough to be coerced into a proper kiss. Stephen’s body had tensed up, Alexander shuffled back a little on his thighs to create a tantalising gap between their figures, of which Alexander now plunged his hand into, squeezing Stephen’s erection in purposeful earnestness.

A breath gusted out of Stephen all at once, but then hitched immediately as Alexander opened his mouth again, speaking in the teasing voice one might associate with a pet owner:

“My dear, _obedient_ man…” he moved his free hand so that his thumb was pushing against the underside of the Doctor’s chin, his fingers resting on the side of his throat, pushing his gaze to meet him as Stephen tried to turn his face down.

Oh, the _fury_.

Stephen said nothing, but the steady breath he pushed from his nose said enough for Alexander. Alexander turned his face away, smiling, looking down to focus on the buttons of Stephen’s trousers, undoing them with the hand that wasn’t holding the Doctor’s face, slowly and with flourish.

The slightest increase in Stephen’s breathing made Alexander feel almost godlike as he firmly pulled each lapel of his flies away from each other, pushing his hand quickly under the man’s drawers and gripping his prick, freeing it from the inseam of his leg and pulling it out into the open air, searing and almost as angry as the face of the man it belonged to.

Alexander gasped coquettishly, leaning into Stephen with the angle of his shoulder, breathing a satisfied laugh against the man’s cheek as he looked down between them at the Doctor’s cockstand, squeezing the girth of it with his warm palm.

“ _Oh_ , my good, gorgeous man.” He continued to purr, Stephen’s shoulders tensing with his words.

“Stop it.” His eyes were closed, his teeth gritted, his breath struggling to stay steady. Alexander laughed low in his throat, guiding his hand over the hot flesh of Stephen’s cock, feeling the pulse thudding through his palm, running his thumb up to roll at the foreskin, revealing the cherry-red tip.

“Such a good boy.” He continued, teasing both with his voice and his thumb as he ran it over the fast moistening slit at the head, picking up the dregs of pre-ejaculate there to lubricate his circular journey.

Stephen’s whole body jerked then, as if a current of electricity had passed through him, his eyes squeezing tighter closed, his teeth baring, the simplest choked sound squeezed from the back of his throat and Alexander stopped himself from claiming it with his mouth- enjoying watching his face too much.

“Alexander…” voice tight, strained, another warning. Alexander’s body thrummed with it, his cock pulsing.

“Yes, ' _My Dear’_?” he answered, despite knowing full well that it was a rhetorical statement, making a tight circle with his thumb and forefinger below the, now exposed, shiny head of Stephen’s cock, squeezing, enjoying the way Stephen’s brow furrowed deeper, his eyes still closed, his face still forcibly upturned by Alexander's thumb below his chin.

Alexander let his hand ghost over the full length of Stephen’s cock, his palm barely making contact, laughing as Stephen’s prick- seemingly with a mind of its own- pushed forward to try and follow the heat. Stephen’s breathing had picked up fully now, grating through gritted teeth, still hiding behind the privacy of his own eyelids as if in some childish belief that Alexander could also not see him due to this. His chest heaved wet in the openness of his layers, reminding Alexander of a heart trapped below a ribcage.

“Shh, shh.” Alexander soothed, although there was nothing to soothe, but it worked in further reddening the Doctor’s face. Alexander shifted forwards until Stephen’s cock was pressed in the join of his own hot thighs, the wool of his trousers no doubt an interesting texture.

Alexander moved his other thumb down to just above the Doctor’s larynx, Stephen opened his eyes with the movement, his gaze was molten. Alexander wanted to kiss him in that moment, but he refrained, instead he turned the palm of his hand over the sensitive head of Stephen’s cock, twisting a searing pleasure that focused only on the tip, rubbing the underside against the wool of his own clothes.

Stephen’s body immediately folded forwards, his head resting securing in the crook of Alexander's neck, panting. Alexander could feel the Doctor’s hands thrashing where they were trapped at his thighs, his breath hitched and strained as if he were trying to stop himself from making any noise.

Oh, what a glorious display. This man finally coming undone with such a simple movement.

Alexander could feel the sweat plastering to his body as Stephen pushed against him, his clothes felt tight around him. His free hand had splayed gently against the Doctor’s throat as it rested on his shoulder, feeling the pulse hammering, his tendons working as he swallowed down.

“Oh dear…” Alexander husked, continuing his movements, providing no relief from the cruelly pinpointed onslaught on his most sensitive of areas. With every jerk of the Doctor’s body as he fought against the invasion of pleasure, Alexander gave an equally patronising coo, driving the man further into his now heady mixture of immobilised anger and helpless pleasure.

As Alexander continued his ministrations, his palm got slicker, providing an infuriating slip and slide that no doubt only made the sensation more delightfully unbearable. Something seemed to break at the back of Stephen’s throat, and suddenly a moan escaped, one of surprise, low and music to Alexander's ears.

“Oh, _good boy_.” Alexander gushed, pushing his own clothed cockstand against Stephen’s exposed one for a single roll of his hips, unable to help himself, the moan having gone directly to the heat already there.

Then Alexander tipped his head back and laughed, because Stephen had clamped his teeth over Alexander’s shoulder, over his clothes. So incensed in his anger and humiliation, he had resorted to the only thing that was in front of him.

Alexander continued despite this, letting up on his cruel movements in favour of giving Stephen’s length a few firm pumps, of which was appreciated through the sudden loss of tension in Stephen’s shoulders, his mouth still open on his shoulder but no longer sinking his teeth in.

Alexander, his head still back, took his hands away from the man and placed them on the Doctor’s hips, moving his body so that his clothed cock was mashed against Stephen’s, humping and grinding down in a sudden fervour, lost in his own need, stuttering and hot. Stephen’s head remained in his neck, still and breathing hard, allowing Alexander to use him- at least for now.

“ _Oh_ , Stephen, you really are _gorgeous._ ” Alexander was breathless, he bought his head down to press his nose against Stephen’s hair, feeling like he wanted to engulf the man. “So solid…” he continued, his eyes closing, his hands coming from his hips to rake down Stephen’s clothed back, squirming his body even closer to the other mans as he all but bounced in his lap, his thighs shaking, rocking their cockstands together, finding delicious friction on the rough material of his drawers. He could feel his foreskin, wet with his own pre-ejaculate, slide up and over his cockhead as he moved. It was almost enough to just do this, but Alexander didn’t want that. “ _I want you in me, Stephen.”_

He felt Stephen’s cock jerk heavily against his own concealed one at that, his breath leaving him in an uncontrolled puff. He drew his head up slightly, placing his face under Alexander's jaw, breathing hot against the back of his ear.

“What makes you think you deserve such a thing?” his voice was ragged and low and it sent sparks all the way down Alexander's spine and into his cock. Alexander moaned then, his stomach flipped and turned as he was suddenly aware that his actions now had consequences.

“I want you to _pillage me_ , take me, Stephen, lose your control with me, I want-”

“Shh, shh.” It was Stephen’s turn to patronise him now, his mouth oh so deliciously close to the shell of his ear, Alexander squirmed, his hands finding purchase on the Doctor’s exposed chest, hands squeezed onto bare shoulders.

Alexander's fevered movements had resulted in his weight on the other man’s trapped hands to become loose, and before Alexander could register anything, those hands were on him, running through his hair and down his back, pulling him close for a sweet moment before Stephen heaved himself onto his back, toppling them both down. It didn’t take long for their positions to switch, and now Alexander was laid flat on his back, looking up into the looming face of Dr Stanley.

“Oh.” Was all he could say, pulse in his ears, an exasperated smile on his face, “Hello.”

Stephen looked absolutely dishevelled, his clothes were buttoned only in the middle, his chest exposed, his trousers open and cockstand a ferocious angry red at being teased, wet with pre-cum and straining lusciously against his still clothed stomach. His face was composed, cold, but his cheeks were flushed. He moved above Alexander as if he were a big cat, the weight focused on his shoulders as he observed the Scot’s face with frightening clarity.

Without a word, he leant down and caught Alexander in a searing kiss, immediately deep and invasive. Alexander melted back against the bedsheets, his hands coming to cup the Doctor’s neck, pulling him as close as he could go.

Stephen’s hands worked quickly at Alexander's front, unbuttoning him until he was just as exposed as Stephen, running his deft hands up the exposed skin of his chest which was soft with chestnut hair. Alexander arched into the touch, feeling every little attention playing in his prick. Stephen’s thumb swiped firmly over a raised nipple, and Alexander almost choked on the kiss, his cock continuing to complain.

He broke the kiss then, suddenly desperate.

“Please…”

Stephen gazed down at him coolly, observing every fraction of expression on the other man’s face. He leant back then on his knees, pulling his dress shoes from himself- as if only just realising that he still had them on.

Alexander did the same, laughing a little.

As Stephen placed their shoes neatly on the floor, he reached behind him to his fold down table and rifled through a draw there. The figure of him strained back and exposed was too much for Alexander to resist, who sat up on his elbows to mischievously take the head of the Doctor’s cock in his mouth.

There was a jump, a loud gasp, and the Doctor nearly emptied the contents of the draw on the floor. Alexander let his hands grope at Stephen’s thighs, swirling his tongue only once before he was rudely pulled by his hair, back and away.

“Enough.” Stephen barked, pushing him back into the bed with his weight. Alexander grasped at him, pulling at his collar, straining up from where he was placed to plant a kiss on his chin- as it was all that he could reach.

Stephen looked down at him then and for a second there was a flash of warmth across his face like the sun peeking out from behind a storm cloud, but before it could register for very long, the storm cloud was back in place. Alexander felt his heart grow in size to have been able to witness it.

As Stephen composed himself, he unbuttoned the rest of his upper garments so that his coat and shirt hung open fully, much the same as Alexander's. Alexander, feeling impatient, wrapped his legs round the Doctor’s waist, heaving him down on top of him, grinding into his stomach as his fists grabbed at the back of his coat.

Alexander planted a kiss on the juncture of Stephen's jaw, the spot he had so purposefully ignored earlier, sucking the skin there, moving his mouth to bite at his earlobe gently.

“Hurry up, My Dear” he whispered, feeling as if his whole body was vibrating.

Stephen turned his head to catch Alexander's insistent mouth in another kiss, breaking away from it for a millisecond to speak.

“If-” another kiss, “I hear one more word-” another, “Leave that mouth of yours-” He moved away then, a miniscule amount, as Alexander went back in for another, making sure that he was listening. Alexander looked at him, breathing hard. “Then I will simply walk out and leave you here, do you understand?”

Alexander felt a buzz rush through his whole body, he nodded wordlessly. Stephen seemed satisfied, unwinding himself from Alexander's embrace and positioning himself between the assistant’s thighs, observing his straining erection where it had yet to be freed all night.

Alexander's hips squirmed with impatience, even the smallest pressure of Stephen slowly unbuttoning his trousers, and then again his drawers- no rush in his demeanour whatsoever- was too much for him to bear. Alexander's head pushed back against the mattress, he wanted to scream at him to hurry up, to touch him, to bring him some form of relief. With a flourish, Stephen pushed Alexander's trousers down over his hips, stripping them from him as if he were shaking out the cloth on an operating table. Alexander's cock bobbed red and needy in the open air. Stephen positioned himself in the gap in the middle of his thighs, his long legs snaking under Alexander's, pushing them up.

“Tell me again why you deserve this?” Stephen’s voice was low and affirmative.

Alexander lifted his gaze, his eyes finding Stephen’s as he poured some oil into his palm, his hand coming to hover tantalisingly close above Alexander's now exposed cock. Alexander was about to splutter into a plea until he caught a glint in Stephen’s eye that reminded him of their agreement, and he let his mouth fall closed with a look of displeasure, glowering up at the man.

“I thought not…” Stephen sighed, making to move his hand away from Alexander's cock, that is until Alexander thrust up in his sheer desperateness, pushing his hot prick against the slick surface of Stephen’s open palm, his fists gripping in the bedcovers and a small moan escaping his throat with even the smallest amount of friction.

He could see Stephen staying perfectly still, watching the display in front of him with a look of consideration, as if he were deciding whether he was going to allow this or not. Alexander felt sweat running down over his stomach as it tensed, his cock jumping, hoping for something, _anything_.

He gave Stephen a look of pure anguish, and in that second it seemed like that the Doctor took pity on him, gripping his cock in a warm fist. Alexander could have sobbed as the pressure was relieved from him, the pleasure shooting up his back and making him arch off the bed with a gasp.

His hands found Stephen’s thighs where they were supporting Alexander's own, rubbing up them in a fevered act of appreciation, running his blunt nails down the wool as Stephen’s fist moved firmly and methodically over his cock.

A strangled sound left his throat, he looked up to see Stephen above him, his dry hand working over his stomach and chest, resting -not pushing- on Alexander's throat. The Doctor’s hand twisted at the head of his yard, and Alexander's body twisted with it, one of his hands coming up to grip at the material of Stephen’s coat.

Stephen’s slick hand pushed to the base of his cock, squeezing, then passing down, finding his entrance. Alexander could have wept. _Finally_!

With a medical firmness and a careful watchfulness that Alexander floundered under, Stephen inserted one digit into Alexander, looking down between their bodies as he did so, his gaze alternating from watching the assistant’s face to watching his own hand.

Alexander's head swam, his breath hitching, he felt himself clamp down on Stephen’s finger- immediately hungry for more.

It didn’t take long for Alexander to be worked open- they had done this many times before. Alexander was strained flat, his head back, panting and pulling at any item of clothing that Stephen was wearing, wanting nothing more than to praise this man in the way that he knew he _hated_ , to rile his anger up, wanting him to lose his control. But he didn’t, because he also knew that Stephen would make good of his word, even if it was just out of spite, and Alexander didn’t want that.

His teeth gritted, sweat pouring from his forehead at the pleasure of being stretched coupled with that electrifying, dizzying feeling that accompanied Stephen’s fingers when they worked in a specific angle, hitting that gland that resided through his walls. He let a soft shout out, arching his body once more as Stephen twisted his fingers inside of him.

Alexander lifted his head to Stephen then, pleading without his words. Stephen read his expression instantly, familiar with its connotations. He removed his fingers slowly, leaning back on his haunches to reach for more oil, pouring it onto his palm and slicking his own length with it.

Alexander could have watched him do that until he crumbled, his heart beating fast at the idea of watching this man bring himself to the edge of his control, to watch him fall apart under his own hand. He groaned, letting his head fall back, gripping Stephen’s thighs with white knuckles.

Stephen shuffled forwards until the tops of his thighs hit the back of Alexander's, hoisting him up a little by his hips, his legs encircling Stephen. Alexander sat up on his elbows, hand steadying himself on the back of Stephen’s neck, watching between their bodies as Stephen angled his cock to his entrance, breathing steadily through his nose.

Alexander looked into his face, observing carefully as he pushed in, and then Alexander couldn’t watch him any longer because he had closed his eyes, his mouth dropping open with a moan as the blunt pressure of Stephen’s cock pushed into him. It was a familiar feeling by now, but it didn’t make it any less electric. The sensation was a dull, pleasurable pressure, it was like a pain but without the fear that often-accompanied it, instead it was a feeling of fullness, of connection.

He felt Stephen’s face press into the expanse of his hot chest, breathing heavily as he pushed steadily inside of Alexander. When he was up to the hilt, he let out a shaky pant, his face still remaining against Alexander. Alexander opened his eyes, wrapping his arms around his neck and running his fingers through the hair at the back of his nape.

Stephen’s hands came to rest firmly on Alexander's hips, and then Alexander found that he had fallen onto his back again as Stephen had started to move, and my god, it was exquisite. His pace was slow at first, drawing only slightly out before pushing back in, rocking his hips, the material of his trousers scratching the backs of Alexander's thighs.

“Faster,” Alexander pleaded, his thighs shaking. Stephen lifted his head from where it was still resting on his chest, his brow furrowing.

“I thought I made myself clear?”

“Well, you’re hardly going to leave me now.” Alexander laughed breathlessly, situating his point by moving his pelvis down, clenching down around Stephen with such a punishing strength that it made them both gasp.

“I’m not sure I would come away in one piece if I tried to.” Stephen huffed, sweat on his brow. Alexander laughed again, but it was quickly swallowed up with Stephen’s mouth as he began thrusting faster now.

Alexander broke the kiss with a moan, the sensation of Stephen slamming into him had been all he was craving all evening, perhaps all month, and now he finally had it. Stephen ducked his head, landing open mouthed scrapes of his teeth and tongue down Alexander's neck, his arms coming to wrap around the other man’s waist to hold him close.

Alexander's hands pulled at the coat on Stephen’s back, grasping for any form of leverage.

Stephen unwound one of his hands from Alexander's waist, inserting it onto the crook of his knee and pulling his legs up high around him, gaining deeper access for his thrusting. Alexander gasped around a groan at this, thrashed his head to the side, arching his back, in pure bliss.

The pleasure coursed through him, tingling up his cock which bounced embarrassingly against his bare stomach, creating a wet slapping sound that caused Alexander's brain to short-circuit.

“Please…” he garbled, his eyes opening, his hands drawing Stephen’s face towards him until their lips were pressing, “ _Please touch me_.”

Stephen’s concentration wavered, his pace stuttered slightly as he leaned in further, kissing Alexander deeply.

“Touch yourself.” He said sternly as he pulled away, panting. Alexander whined, attempting to close the gap again for another kiss, but Stephen pulled back slightly, watching him instead.

“But I want your hand on me, Stephen.” He croaked, his accent slurred as Stephen continued his punishing pace, pushing the air out of his lungs with every thrust. It was difficult enough to even speak, and he could tell that Stephen knew this, he felt him watching him with a keen interest, his brow furrowed in heavy concentration as he angled his thrusts in the most effective ways he could.

“Do as I say.” He was breathless, but his voice still held authority, and it made Alexander shiver.

Stephen leant away from him then, catching both his knees in his grip and straightening his back so as to further plough away at him. Alexander stiffened, his own hands raking over Stephen’s, bumping over each finger where he held him, his legs beginning to tremble, a desperate cry clawing up his throat.

“ _God_ , Stephen, I’ve wanted nothing more than this all night.” He sobbed, his own hand coming down to squeeze at his painfully hard length, drawing pre-ejaculate over his stomach in a slick line.

Stephen’s eyes bore into him, watching his hand on his cock with a heat in them. Alexander felt stifled under the gaze, his body racking with more and more pleasure as his hand moved over his oiled cock. He wanted to put on a teasing show for Stephen but was unable to do more than just furiously frig himself there in front of him, open and exposed.

Stephen made a soft noise at the display, his head falling back as his pace never faltered, sweat pouring down his chest. Alexander wanted to sit up then, to capture his scent, to run his teeth down his body, but he was barely capable of speaking.

Stephen leaned forwards, folding Alexander near in half, his face looming above the assistant’s. Alexander's breath caught in his throat as he observed the Doctor, the coldness and reservation had melted from his features, his eyes were dark and piercing directly into Alexander, his mouth hung open, his face flushed and sheened with sweat. Alexander bought the hand that he wasn’t touching himself with up to the side of the man's face and he instantly closed his eyes, pushing into his touch.

_Oh, that would just about do it._

Alexander arched up, his hand working feverishly on his cock, his eyelashes fluttering as he felt pleasure building up in his core, working through him, focusing on his cock.

“ _Oh, Stephen, I-_ ” was all he managed until he felt a warm hand enveloping his own where it worked, pushing him out the way. Alexander gasped, his neck straining back against the bed, unable to even look as Stephen worked him over efficiently, continuing to pound into him. The act sent thumping pleasure up his cock coupled with Stephen angling up, hitting his prostate with practiced ease, arresting him with the giddy sparks of pleasure that ran up his spine.

Just when Alexander was sure that the feelings couldn’t get any more intense, his crisis broke upon him, convulsing his body, making him clench down hard onto Stephen who tried his best to continue his movements, the increased pressure making him fold forwards with a soft shout.

Alexander gasped as his cock tensed under Stephen’s grip, releasing its ejaculate in hot ropes across his stomach, covering Stephen’s hand. He twisted, unaware until that very moment that he had been calling Stephen’s name, his hands gripped so tightly at the other man’s shoulders he was worried he was hurting him.

Stephen continued to thrust into him, his breathing ragged and vocal, his hand softly falling away from its previous grip on Alexander's now oversensitive yard.

Alexander reached his shaking hands from the man’s shoulders, guiding them to his face, holding him there above him, watching his concentration waver, his brow furrow, his eyes want to close. He squeezed hard around him then, receiving a jolt of pleasure through his spine once more, watching as Stephen’s eyes slammed shut and his pace stuttered.

“It’s okay.” Alexander said softly, bringing the man down close to him, planting him in the crook of his sweaty neck. Stephen made a noise then, a sort of choked sound, and he went very stiff, his breathing all but stopping entirely. Alexander moaned softly as he felt Stephen’s cock twitch within him, pulsing hot as he tumbled quietly into his own crisis, the backs of his legs tensed and shaking.

There was a long while where the two of them stayed like that, both panting and exhausted, sweaty and far too hot. Stephen laid in the crook of Alexander's neck and Alexander with his arms and his legs still tightly wrapped around him.

After a while, Alexander felt Stephen shift slightly and there was that familiar but uncomfortable feeling of emptiness followed by hot seed as it exited from him. He sighed, not all contentedly, wriggling under the heavy weight of Stephen as he fought to return his breathing back to normal.

“Your bedsheets are in an emergency.” Alexander slurred, tired, but slowly recovering.

“Mm.” Stephen hummed in a sort of disdained agreement, not moving.

“You’d better be careful, can’t explain those stains away on your nice posh trousers.” He brought his hands up to run over the expansive material of Stephen’s clothed back, feeling the heat coming off him in waves, enjoying the way the wool felt under his palms.

“Hm.” He said again, lower in his throat this time as Alexander continued to rub his back. He might have easily sent him off to sleep like this, so he stopped, and Stephen breathed in sharply then as if he also had just realised that he was nodding off.

He moved then, pushing up on his elbows with a grunt, rolling onto his back heavily next to Alexander. Even though they were almost the same height, Stephen was definitely broader and stronger than him.

Alexander sat up slowly, carefully, as if he may shatter from the exertion, and looked down at himself with a disgusted exhale.

“No one ever thinks about the mess afterwards, do they?” he complained.

“I do.” Stephen offered, his eyes closed, voice deep. Alexander rolled his eyes, smiling.

“Of course _you_ do.”

He had no idea how long their little rendezvous had lasted, but Alexander was sure that it was coming up to an hour, if not over it. The party would still be going on for a long time.

There was no rush.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I will be contributing to some of the other prompt that are running this week mainly Thursday and Friday's prompts, so keep an eye out for that if you're interested!  
> (The ships will be Stanley/Goodsir/McDonald and Goodsir/Hickey)  
> you can find me on:  
> tumblr [@dragonwycks](https://dragonwycks.tumblr.com/)  
> twitter [@stinkyarttt](https://www.twitter.com/stinkyarttt)  
> If you enjoyed this please consider leaving a comment! See you later in the week!


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